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Background: Animal hybrids are rare, but not unheard of—about 2-3% of the population and fluctuating locally to as much as 12%. Court has wolf ears and a tail, along with a few other characteristics and instincts.

His ears droop down so low when he's sad, and they press back against his head when he’s in uncomfortable situations—he always kicks himself for giving away how uncomfortable he is. Court wags his tail when he's happy and his ears perk up.

Tail wagging is largely involuntary for him and pretty rare because of how much time he's put into training his restraint and his immediate reactions to everything. Most of the time, his face is neutral when his tail wags, which creates an uncanny effect to the people around him.

When in casual clothing, he can get away with tucking his tail into his pants to hide it. He learned first hand how bad of an idea it is to tuck his tail into tactical pants, so he just leaves it out.

Court hit members of Golf Sierra with his tail constantly. The first time it happened was an accident—he got excited about the gun selection and the gear available to him—but he will just do it for fun.

When he sleeps deep enough to dream, his ears twitch and his tail flicks at random. If someone reaches out to pet his ears or grab his tail, they get bit. Ask Golf Sierra how they know.

He doesn't point, that was never an instinct he was allowed to develop properly. It does feel like he's indulging in that pointing instinct when he's in a sniper's nest, though.

Court has incredibly sharp hearing, and his ears will stick straight up and swivel until he finds whatever sound caught his attention. During his time as a member of Golf Sierra, Zack would always keep an eye on Court’s ears to make sure he knew what the fuck was going on or if something was happening somewhere that human ears couldn't pick up on.

His ears also perk up at the sound of kids playing or laughing. It was the earliest sound he used for training his hearing, and it always brings back reminders of his brother. His tail will always start to wag a little—he's constantly embarrassed by it because its one of the only times he can't control himself. (If it’s during a Sierra op, everyone has to wonder if they’re gonna get shot at soon or if he’s found something else he enjoys.)

Zack has a dog whistle for when they're running an op and they can't call him over comms. They’ve got a handful of whistle calls that are mission specific like “stay put” “follow the whistle” and “don’t shoot.” Court is, not very fond of the whistle. In part because he doesn't like the noise it makes, but mostly because it means that shit has probably gone sideways and he needs to go assist. [Whoever is fighting them gets a nice surprise because they think it’s an actual dog that’s about to show up and they’re shot by a grown ass man before they can process it.]

Helicopters and planes are super fucking loud for him so he needs his own special pair of headphones or earplugs. This is probably his most lost item; he can't keep his gear on him for shit.

He is ultra paranoid about being recognized from the moment he joins the CIA/intelligence community, so he gets rid of as many of his wolf traits as he can (that won’t benefit him in the field) and his fur is the first to go.

Shedding season is his personal hell. He hates it. Normally, he shaves at the first sight of shedding season because of how meticulous he is about his hair and leaving evidence behind. Whatever the 'military hair cut' equivalent is for the fur on his ears and tail, he maintains that. Outside of shedding, he still keeps his fur pretty short, and he won't let it grow in any place that would be recognizable (his ears an tail are excluded from that because they're recognizable as-is). Despite his efforts, he still finds fur everywhere; he cleans his guns obsessively to combat and fur that might get carried around in them.

He has claws, but he trims and blunts them because of his constant use of guns. After being burned/the shoot-on-sight was issued, he'd have them a little sharper because he's in survival mode more often than he isn't.

Court has prominent canines, as well as generally sharper teeth. When Court and Zack’s first met, Court had his ears and tail hidden so Zack’s first indication that something is off with this guy are teeth that look like that could rip his throat out (they could) when Court opens his mouth to snark at him.

Additionally, this means that he's commonly muzzled when captured to prevent him from biting people or his bindings.

Court starts to show his wolf tendencies when he gets cornered or frustrated but it’s always relatively subtle. It doesn't get overt until he gets collared and/or muzzled and then all bets are off (+ all his guilt around his lack of humanity in the moment)

Court has a lot of different vocalizations that he's capable of, but he takes care to not make them around people and especially not in the field. His major exception is growling, which is often involuntary. He can usually pass it off as a regular human sound, but it does shock Golf Sierra when he growls for real for the first time in front of them. They also can't tell the difference between an angry growl and a happy growl—Court thinks the difference is blatantly obvious, its not.

Court buries things, like, a lot. [Note: wolves bury the things they love all the time (which is thematic but we don't have time to get into all that)] Half of his gear stashes are buried in places only he knows about.

Whenever another Serra members pisses him off, Court buries their things. And he's never nice about it. There are multiple freshly dug and refilled holes, he plants red herrings so that when they think they've found whatever Court decided to bury they get their hopes up only for it to be another piece of gear they didn't even realize was missing.

Because wolves are pack animals, he sees Golf Sierra as his pack on a subconscious level (don't think about the implications). When he becomes a singelton operator again, he vows to never have a pack again.

Henry had been asleep for about 2 hours before he began dreaming. Or no, that wasn't right… he began having a nightmare.

It always started the same: Just a normal drive at night to a restaurant… and then it would grow dark around the edges, and the voices of everyone he loves would fade into nothingness. He'd see their mouths move from the rearview mirror or when he turned his head to the side, but he couldn't hear any words. They'd all be speaking, acting as if everything was fine, when Henry knew something was going to happen. He always knew. This nightmare happened constantly.

The car would be crossing the bridge, and he'd only be able to hear the tire exploding out from underneath him before he saw Athena move from his peripheral vision. Henry would be locked into place, stuck in the driver's seat as Athena was tossed violently through the windshield, only the sound of the glass shattering making its way through his brain.

He'd see hail. But it wasn't hail. It was glass. It was all glass decorating the highway. He knew that, and he hated it. He hated hail.

Henry never got a glimpse of his parents in this nightmare— at least not fully. He'd only see glances of them throughout the drive, but never saw them when the accident occurred. He only ever saw Athena. Henry saw her be tossed forward, saw how her head smashed through the glass as it spider-webbed and then shattered in and out of the car's frame, saw her eyes turn lifeless in less than a second.

Henry hated this nightmare. He was sick of it—but he deserved it. Each time he woke, he calmed himself by saying this pain was only a fraction of what they suffered as they died.

This night was different. Tonight, it was hailing when he woke up from the nightmare.

Henry nearly screamed when he opened his eyes, breathing heavily and feeling his heart race as he replayed the accident over and over again. Hearing and seeing new things with each flashback.

He sat up and looked out his window. It was hailing. The snow and ice falling from the sky smashed fiercely against the glass, and Henry flinched as he saw the ice shatter and glide slowly down it.

Henry rubbed his face roughly with his hands and tried to control his breathing.

A knock came from the other side of his door, and Henry froze.

Julian.

Shit… Henry wasn't sure he could handle talking right now. He didn't want to bother Julian with something so trivial either, so Henry debated ignoring the knock.

Another series of knocks resounded, this time more insistent.

Henry heaved a sigh and stood up from his bed. He limped slightly before reaching a hand out to the door and pulling it open just enough to see Julian.

Julian was standing in plain clothes— his usual sleep clothes— with his hands clenched very tightly at his sides. His eyes were wider than usual, and he seemed to be measuring his breathing, but Henry wasn't sure.

"Yeah…?" Henry's voice cracked as he asked, and he cleared his throat.

Julian looked him over worriedly before opening and closing his mouth a few times. Strange. Julian wasn't one for words, but when he did speak, they were deliberate and carefully chosen. It was odd to see him struggle this way, like he wasn't thinking before speaking anymore.

"I heard you." Julian eventually whispered as his eyes flicked over Henry's form again. He stepped closer to the door and pushed it open gently, making Henry take a couple of steps back into his room.

"Heard me?" Henry asked and began to panic. Did he yell in his sleep or something? He's never done that before… at least he thought so.

Henry walked back over to his bed as casually as he could and sat down.

Julian hesitated at the entrance of his room before closing the door behind him and hurriedly walking over to the bed. He sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him while his eyes grew more glassy.

"You screamed," Julian said quietly. It was blunt, but Henry always preferred how Julian spoke to him over how anyone else addressed him. Julian never treated him like he was fragile… well, you know what he means. Henry was still an adult, and Julian recognized that. Julian just understood him. Henry was grateful.

"Oh," Henry was surprised and looked out the window again. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry." He watched more hail smash against the window and felt his anxiety creep up again.

Julian shifted on the bed so he was blocking Henry's view of the window. "I was already awake," Julian said, looking at Henry. Sometimes it felt like Julian could see through Henry with how damn perceptive he was.

Henry nodded in response and shifted his legs up so he was cradling them in his arms. "I… um." He didn't know what to say, so he just sighed with a little shrug.

Julian tilted his head as he watched Henry. He didn't say anything for another minute, both of them just listening to the wind howl and the hail fall.

"I can stay," Julian offered. "I could stay in here tonight… if that would help." Julian shuffled on the bed, looking a little agitated as he glanced around the room. "I… I don't want you to feel forced, though. You can say no."

It might have been the most Henry had ever heard Julian speak at once. Of course, the time he hears the man speak so much at once is when Henry is falling apart… God dammit, Henry.

Henry didn't respond in time, still in shock. Julian nodded his head like he'd expected this and stood up stiffly from the bed. "I'll give you space." He started to walk back towards the door, but Henry, without thinking, wrapped a hand over Julian's.

Henry looked down at his hand as if it had somehow betrayed him. He glanced up at Julian quickly before flicking his eyes back down, "Stay?" He asked. It came out embarrassed and awkward, but Julian squeezed his hand lightly before nodding again, this time looking much less tense.

Julian sat down on the bed and then shuffled higher so he would have his back against the headboard. "Lay down…?" He suggested to Henry hesitantly.

Henry felt a wave of exhaustion run over him, and so he hummed before lying down under the covers again.

They sat in silence for a while before Henry whispered, "I'm really sorry."

Julian looked down at him with a sad expression. Henry never understood why Julian was always so… caring. "Don't be." Julian shook his head at Henry and slumped down on the headboard a bit.

Henry rolled onto his side to face Julian before drawing his legs up to his chest. "I just…" He started. Henry felt like he owed Julian an explanation for his bizarre behavior. "I see them… I see it," He whispered and felt tears form in his eyes.

It was one thing to think about his nightmares and anxieties, and a whole other thing to talk about them.

Julian stayed quiet, just giving Henry the opportunity to catch his breath as he felt a few tears fall.

Julian hummed in sympathy and reached a hand over. He laid his fingers gently in Henry's hair, pushing the strands out of his face, and watched his expression closely. "It's not your fault," Julian said firmly.

Henry sobbed. Of course. Of course, Julian would know what Henry was thinking.

Henry dug his face into his pillow and cried, feeling ripped open and raw. "You can't know that," He told Julian.

Julian wiped Henry's face with soft fingers as he said, "I do." Julian shuffled down the headboard so he'd be lying down beside and facing Henry. "It's not your fault, I swear," He repeated, his eyes hardened with resolve.

Henry looked at him, and he could almost believe that what he was saying was true. Henry heaved in a deep breath as he tried to get himself under control.

Julian shushed him as Henry tried to force his body to relax, trying to coax him into letting his body feel for a moment.

They lay there together long enough for the hail to stop and the weather to be only light snowfall. Henry eventually ran out of tears, and Julian kept petting his hair soothingly.

"Thanks…" Henry murmured sleepily. Julian hummed in response as he brought the covers higher over the two of them.

"Sleep, I'll watch you," Julian told Henry, and before Henry could even begin to protest, he fell asleep against Julian's side.